


Love in an Astral Era

by IlaraTam



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Grief/Mourning, I love me my Elezen men okay, Moving On, Smut, Spoilers, Viera Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 02:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 20,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30115869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IlaraTam/pseuds/IlaraTam
Summary: An unassuming, oft-silent scholar from the forests of Ivalice finds herself thrust into one war after another. But love, as they say, waits for no one...A compendium of scenes and memories from the life of the Viera adventurer Freyja Kisne.Spoilers for Heavensward, Stormblood (minor), and Shadowbringers (up to and including patch 5.3). Some chapters contain smut; these are marked as such.
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light, Urianger Augurelt/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Heart Held Heavensward

The wind howled in the dark, whistling through cracks in the heavy stone walls. The sound was familiar, almost comforting -- how often had the winter wind sung in the trees of my homeland? But at that moment, I couldn't summon anything more than hollow dread.

My dress weighed me down, layers of silk sodden with mud and snow, hem frayed and one sleeve torn where a Blade had been too enthusiastic in my arrest. I'd worked on the garment for weeks, with Yda and Tataru involving themselves at every opportunity. Spinning or sourcing the fabric, sewing the tiny jewel-like buttons, embroidering by the fire in the evenings while the Domans and Eorzeans took turns sharing legends and fairy stories. It was how I processed my grief for Moenbryda, and in the moment when it all came together, I think the brash scholar might truly have approved.

Now the dress was dead weight, icy and clinging and stiff with blood. Though the fire in the grate crackled and roared, its heat did not reach me.

So I tried to undo the long row of tiny buttons on the bodice. But my fingers were numb and stiff, and my hands shook badly. I cursed, frustrated -- why couldn't I do even this one small thing right?!

And at that very moment, the door opened, and there stood Haurchefant.

He swept in with a smile, clad for comfort in a dark green tunic and black breeches. He held mugs in one hand and a blanket draped over his arm, but froze as I turned to face him. The fire light cast deep shadows, but it couldn't hide my tears.

Shock and indecision held him fast. I was similarly startled, my ears standing straight up.

"Haurchefant..."

My voice cracked, and was barely more than a whisper, but he heard me. I held my hand out to him, and he saw how it shook, and his own hesitation was broken.

He set the mugs on the table -- each one full of something warm and steaming and smelling of cinnamon, I noted -- and held the blanket out to me. I took it absently and shivered, but could manage naught else.

Haurchefant carefully sat on the other end of the ornate sofa. I felt his gaze as much as saw it, at once warm and questioning.

"How can I help?" he asked softly. I hesitated, and realized my nose was twitching in fear and worry. But another shiver wracked me, and in desperation I pointed to the offending buttons on my bodice.

"The dress ... it ..." I couldn't force the words out. Talking was difficult for me at the best of times after spending so much of my life alone, and this was not the best of times.

But he understood. Slowly, gently, keeping a chivalrous distance apart, he began to undo the long line of jeweled buttons, their facets sparkling in the fire light.

"It is a beautiful gown," he remarked. "Impeccable craftsmanship. 'Tis a shame to see it like this."

"It ... wasn't the outcome I expected while making it, no."

"You made this?" He stopped and looked at me, amazement all over his face. Even through my tears, I couldn't help but give a tiny smile as I nodded. "Then I will take the utmost care with it, my lady." His touch was gentle as he resumed.

I watched him work, eyes tracing his now familiar features. He'd had the same intense focus during those long chess games when we'd first come to know each other, when reading reports or treatises on tactical theory, when he'd fought alongside me at Witchdrop. Then he reached the final button, and for the first time, all of his intense focus was turned on me.

"Would you like me to help?" he asked, voice low, and I nodded again. He smiled, but though it was soft and genuine, it did nothing to lessen his intensity.

With gentle hands he slipped the silk from my shoulders, revealing the black linen shift I wore beneath. It took a moment for me to struggle out of the stiff, almost frozen sleeves. One I managed. The other pulled, and I winced. He shifted to look and found the long, jagged line of blood along the back of my arm.

"Who ... what did this?"

"Blade, for both. Back in Ul'dah," I whispered. He tried to steady his breathing, anger and fear rolling off him. But his touch was as gentle as before.

"Tell me if the pain is too much," he said, more sternly, and I nodded.

He brought his hand to my bare arm beneath the sleeve. The heat of his touch made me shiver. Slowly, steadily, he prised the ruined silk away. Blessedly it came away easily in the warmth, clinging only to the surface. Finally I was able to lift my arm free, and used it to slip myself out of the skirt and set the whole dress aside, trying hard to keep my expression from betraying any pain as I moved.

"Freyja," Haurchefant sighed as I sank back onto the couch. I turned to him again. "You needn't hide it. Not here. Pain makes you no lesser."

"'The Warrior of Light feels no pain,'" I intoned back. It came almost naturally, now.

"You're not just the Warrior of Light. You're a living, breathing woman. Extraordinary, yes, but mortal." I felt the ghost of a smile tug on my lips, and with gentle fingertips he lifted my chin a little higher. "You are Freyja, first and always."

I studied him as intensely as he gazed at me. But when I spoke, my voice was still small.

"I don't remember the last time someone looked at me and saw me first, rather than my title."

He hardly dared breathe, and my heart was suddenly so full of some unnamed longing that it almost hurt. But his hand went to my arm and I winced again, and his fingertips came away smeared with blood.

Haurchefant was the very picture of horror mixed with worry.

"It's alright, I can ... I can fix..." I tried to say, but the cold still slowed me, and I was still hollow. He took one look, shook his head, and stood up. My head swam and I closed my eyes against it. When it cleared he was back beside me with a bottle of something green and a soft white cloth.

"May I?" he asked. It was all I could do to nod my assent. He uncorked the bottle and gently but firmly began to work the ointment into the wound. I bit back a cry, but after a moment the ointment began to work its magic, blessed coolness spreading through the wound as it expelled impurities and knit the flesh beneath. He wiped the blood and the excess ointment away, leaving only a thin scar behind.

He held me for another moment after he finished. He must have felt me tremble as I caught my breath. Another tear rolled down my cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. He shook his head slightly.

"I'm here."

For a moment I held herself suspended, unsure. Then I gave in and leaned into his touch, pressing my cheek to his warm palm. He gathered me in his arms.

My palms were against his chest, my head resting on his shoulder. Tears rolled down my cheeks, but they were cold and silent, my heart too hollow to break. Haurchefant tugged the blanket around me and held me in its embrace as the bitter wind whistled through the stone.

Finally I sighed, tears no longer falling, and leaned further into his embrace. My ears fell to rest flat against my head and shoulders.

Haurchefant couldn't stifle the noise of surprise in his throat, which made me smile a little.

"Don't tell. It's bad manners to let one's guard down so with others, especially outsiders. And men."

"I won't," he grinned. Then an errant thought struck him, and despite himself, he asked, "May I...?"

I twitched an ear.

"You may."

Soft, careful fingertips caressed the length of my ear. Beneath his touch I finally, completely relaxed.

Dawn found us in that same position, the fire burning low, blanket protecting us from the morning frost as he rested on the couch and I rested on him, his hand still cradling my head.

The next day, and every day after, I found myself wondering what it would be like to get closer still, to kiss him, to caress and care for him as he had me. My life had changed in so many ways in a single day, most of them for the worse, but this -- this one thing I now felt as I looked into his eyes, this was a gift.


	2. Taking Flight

My spirits were as high as the clouds we sailed through, skimming through the sky with Cid at the helm, just like old times. Harchefant stood beside me at the prow. Our eyes met, and our grins were identical. I couldn't help but laugh, and I threw out my arms as if welcoming the world. Haurchefant cheered and whooped into the wind.

The Ishgard docks came into sight all too soon. Haurchefant disembarked, then gallantly offered his hand to help me down. I took it and leapt gaily, and he twirled me around as if in a dance.

"Ah, I do so love airship travel," he cried. "The icy wind in your face, the warmth of your blood in excitement ... and you, my dear friend," he set me down and looked into my eyes, his gaze gentle and bright. "In all this time, I'd never heard you laugh."

"Haurchefant..." I spoke his name as a question, one I couldn’t find the words for.

"Freyja. I would do anything in this world to hear you laugh again. This day, and the next, and every day thereafter."

Looking back, I can’t say who moved first. I touched his cheek, he tilted my chin. His breath was warm on my skin. I leaned in and closed the distance, pressing my lips to his.

The kiss was tender and brief. He looked at me, surprised, wondering -- then kissed me back, answering the question I'd silently asked. He was heat and passion and love, wonder and admiration, and the taste of sweet mint on my tongue.

I could not say how long it was, only that it was some time before the first flakes of an oncoming snow storm brought us back to the world. We ran through the streets to the manor, hand in hand, giddy and laughing. At the door he bowed.

"I must report to the temple commander. But I will see you again anon." With all the manners of a courtier he took my offered hand and kissed it warmly. He left me with a warm parting smile, then turned and walked into the falling snow.

\---------

"Haurchefant,

I am sorry I couldn't give you these words in person, but the imminent attack has forced our hand, and we must leave at once. We go in search of Iceheart, that we may attempt to sway Nidhogg from the path of blood before more lives are lost.

It is a dangerous gamble, but it is also the best plan we have. I may be gone some time, but still I hope this letter finds you quickly.

You are the only person in all of this who has looked at me and seen me, first and foremost. Not a title, not what I could do to further someone else's goals, just me. And I have always wanted to see you truly, too.

You have made my days and nights in this frozen land as warm as any I've known. You are the sun even in the blackest night, a fire in the dark, a guiding light and safe harbour in even the worst of storms. Yours is the light I fight for.

I will do everything in my power to return to you. And know that, no matter what happens, my thoughts -- and my heart -- are always with you.

With my love,

Freyja"

\---------

I left the letter with the footman and stole from the house before dawn. I stopped at the door and looked back at the familiar room, this space that had become a home, with these people that felt like family. I wondered if I would ever return.

I’ve been risking life and limb for many years. But for the first time, I truly felt like I had something to lose.


	3. Eyes On Me (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER HAS SMUT. If you would prefer to avoid this, please note that it begins at “I have loved you from the first, and always will” and ends at “When I returned to my senses, I realized I was crying.”

No sooner had I stepped off the airship on my return than a familiar voice rang out.

"Freyja! I knew that ship had to be yours!" Haurchefant grinned, though he was red faced and out of breath.

"Did...you run all the way here in full armour?"

"Ah, a fine welcome, I know! But I could not wait another moment, my lady, nor could I delay you for a second." He performed an exaggerated courtier's bow, and I giggled at the sight. His eyes were softer as he rose, and he stepped forward to close the gap between us.

"There's that smile," he murmured, with a gentle smile of his own. "I missed it. I missed you."

"As did I," I whispered back. I caressed his nose with my own, and felt him smile.

"My lord! My lady!" A servant in Fortemps livery approached, similarly hurried, and Haurchefant and I sprang apart. "Pray return quickly. News of your journey is eagerly awaited."

We did as we were bid, and spent several hours swapping reports with the others in the manor. Snow had fallen thick on the ground outside in the meantime, making further travel difficult.

The lord was most eager to offer any number of the suites in his manor for his guests and wards to rest in. If anyone batted an eye at Haurchefant de Fortemps and the Warrior of Light retiring at the same time and slipping out of sight down the same hallway, they never spoke of it.

Once away, Haurchefant took my hand, his eyes bright. "Come, I know a place where none will bother us." I nodded and smiled, took his hand and let him lead me through the halls.

We came to a relatively modest but beautifully appointed set of rooms, with everything set for comfort and ease more than fashion. It felt like home, well loved and happy. And it fit Haurchefant perfectly.

"This is ... yours?" I asked hesitantly, enraptured. Haurchefant nodded and bowed.

"And yours, if you wish." He blushed as he rose, the tips of his ears crimson. I tilted my head in confusion -- and then it dawned on me.

"Oh. Oh. My. Really? Are ... are you certain?"

"As certain as I have ever been of anything." He took my hand in both of his and gazed down at me, eyes soft but serious. "Long have we been friends, companions, allies in our struggles. But you are ... dearer to me than even that. Long I tried to keep silent, but when I read your letter, I..." He took a deep breath and gently squeezed my hand. I squeezed back, and he smiled wider. "I would be by your side, now and tomorrow and every day that follows. I would be your shield ... and your love."

I felt his hands tremble, despite his stoic manner. His eyes betrayed the truth of his words. I suspect mine did, too.

"You already are, Haurchefant. Now and always. I hope I am too."

He smiled and laughed a sigh of relief, and brought my hand to his lips.

"Freyja. Dear Freyja. I have loved you from the first, and always will." His lips were warm and soft on my winter-chilled fingers, and he kissed me again, lingering over my fingertips. I drew him close, hands intertwined, and brought his lips to mine.

I felt as much as heard him sigh, and that alone drew a soft moan from my own lips. He was so warm, even in this wintry storm. As he wrapped his arms around me I felt myself relax into his embrace, finally safe, finally warm and comfortable.

And then he brought his lips to my neck, and stoked a fire far hotter still.

He drew back to look into my eyes, desire darkening his own. There was a question there, silent but clear. In response, I tilted his chin, dragging my thumb gently over his lips, and kissed him slowly. He sighed again, but as I teased his lower lip with my tongue, it became a low growl. He teased my tongue with his own, deepening the kiss, his fingers running through my hair as he cradled my head. I felt his heat everywhere, where he pressed against my thighs, my belly, my chest, and I needed him closer still.

We stumbled back a step until I felt the solid stone wall at my back. I grinned against his lips, and felt more than heard his own laugh. I wrapped one leg around his own, beckoning him closer. He curled his fingers through mine and gently but firmly held my hand above my head, pinned against the wall. A jolt of pleasure shivered through me, and he grinned.

With devilish ease he caught my other wrist and brought it up, capturing them both in one strong hand. His lips quested along my jaw and up my neck, teasing the delicate skin, caressing the velvet of my ears.

"You do like that, don't you?" He gazed into my eyes, near glazed over with pleasure, and smiled as a soft squeeze of her wrists made me shudder. "Worry not, my dear. Your secret is safe with me. As are you."

I smiled, soft and dreamy and true. "I know. I know. Please ... do it again."

"As you wish," he whispered, and pressed closer, delighting in my shudder and the soft moan that escaped my lips. "That's it, my love. Let go. Just feel." He brought his free hand to my thigh, wrapped as it was around his own, and slid his palm up over my skin, my curves swelling beneath his fingers as he drew my skirts further and further up, agonizingly slowly.

I took a shuddering breath. "Please," I managed, and he fixed his gaze with mine.

"Please what, love?"

I struggled a moment to master myself. Yet still when I spoke my voice was thick with desire, barely more than a whisper. "Touch me. Take me. Let me make love to you."

He tried so hard to keep his composure, but his smile was bright and true, that of a boy on his nameday. "All that and more, I promise. But first..." he let himself slip back into desire, and let his hand slip lower to caress my lips. "Just feel. Don't think."

"Just feel..." I repeated in a sigh, hips rising to meet his touch.

"That's right. Focus on sensation. Feel." I sighed again, head tilting back, eyes fluttering closed, finally letting my weight rest against him. "Good girl." He stroked my lips and brushed against my pearl, making me shiver. Gently he squeezed my wrists. "Good girl." He stroked my pearl again, and this time he couldn’t quite stifle his own sounds of desire. My thigh tightened around him, drawing him to me, and he slipped first one, then two fingers between my lips, up to the hilt, as I drew him close. His thumb caressed my pearl, and his long, slender fingers curled inside me as they drew out of me, then pushed back in. My hips moved unconsciously with him, matching each thrust, pressing against his touch, eager as I was to feel, my senses and thoughts given over entirely to pleasure. "Feel, my love, feel it build, feel it take over..."

But I fixed his gaze with mine, even as lost as I was, and gasped, "Please...I need you..."

Haurchefant slowed his strokes, though did not stop. "How do you need me?"

"In....i-inside...please..." My near constant shudders made it nearly impossible to speak, and even now I couldn't help but move against his hand. "I want this to be ... together. I want you, please..." I looked deep into his eyes, sharing nothing but passion and love. "Come with me, my love."

That was all he needed. We all but tore the clothes from each other. He lifted me up, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him as he carried me to bed. Softly, surely, I drew him down to me, trying to be a guide amidst almost blinding desire. I felt his shaft against my lips, steel against silk, and rose to meet it.

He entered me slowly, so slowly, drawing it out, thrusting barely an ilm more at a time. With each I shivered in pleasure, my quiet gasps and moans coming louder as I came more undone. Finally, I think, he could take it no longer. He took my hands in his, fingers intertwined.

“The way you look right now … wicked white, I could come from this alone,” he murmured. But he held, and thrust into me to the hilt.

I gasped. My hips rose to meet him, legs wrapping tight around him. Slowly he drew out and thrust again, and again, filling me so deliciously. I was still all but pinned beneath him, moving with him without thought, my whole world narrowed to nothing but the pleasure building inside of me with every stroke.

Dreamily my eyes fluttered open and captured his.

"Haurchefant," I breathed, moaning his name as he teased me. He shuddered and pressed his lips to my ear.

"Freyja..." his voice was low and thick with desire, almost a growl. "You are ... everything."

I smiled and even laughed, pure joy, but a tear trailed over my cheek. He drew back and concern flickered across his face, but I only smiled wider. Words would not suffice. Instead I drew him into a kiss and pressed against him.

The last of his control vanished. He buried one hand in my hair, deepening the kiss even as he thrust into me harder, faster, every sound and move I made only spurring him on.

His other hand he slipped over my hips to my pearl. I could feel how wet I was, and that only pushed me deeper. With sure, deft fingers he stroked me as he thrust.

I cried out as he touched me, completely overwhelmed, and moaned with wild abandon as I gave myself completely to sensation. The pleasure was a rushing wave now, building too quickly to stop, and I never wanted to stop, I had to--

"Come for me," he whispered, and I did, ecstasy taking me completely, and as I did I felt him lose control.

"Come with me," I moaned. His cry was my answer, and I came again from his hard, wild thrusts and the spill of his seed inside me.

We clung to each other, trembling, letting the calm of the night slowly settle back over us.

When I returned to my senses, I realized I was crying. Haurchefant kissed my cheek.

"My love, why these tears?"

I took a shaky breath.

"Because I can't bear the thought of ever letting you go."

He sighed and stroked my cheek, wiping away the tears.

"Then we shall have to stay together," he smiled. He brushed his thumb across my lips, and I felt the corners quirk up. "There, my love. A smile better suits a hero, no?"

That got a giggle, and I grinned into his hand and kissed his palm.

"Together," I sighed, content.


	4. A Smile Better Suits

We fought side by side, from the streets of the Brume to the top of the Vault, perfectly in sync, communicating without words. Our enemy and their goal were deadly serious, but even so, there was an echo of that moment on the airship, and after -- a wordless thrill made all the sweeter as we knew we shared it with each other.

As the archbishop turned to flee, we made the choice together, with but a nod on either side. Together we ran. Neither of us saw Zephiran on the parapet, nor the manner of his attack.

I heard an odd crackling, and the sound of a bolt, but couldn't turn around fast enough. I tried to cast a barrier, bat the thing aside, but it was all too fast.

Haurfechant was behind me, and moved without hesitation. "I would be your shield," he'd said, and so he was.

He held fast, but the bolt would not dissipate. It was like a living thing, burning through the metal. With a loud crack the shield gave way, and in the space of half a breath the light pierced him through.

"HAURCHEFANT!" The scream sounded so distant, I barely realized it was mine. I fell to my knees beside him, grimoire open, magic at my fingertips and spells on my lips, but the bolt remained, rending him faster than I could heal.

"No, no, no, I can fix this, please, please, no..."

He opened his eyes and looked into mine.

"You ... you are unharmed?" It was all I could do to nod and choke back tears at the sound of his broken whisper. He reached out to me as he had that night in Coerthas. "F-forgive me ... I never wanted you to cry again ... but I could not bear the thought of...of..."

I grasped his hand in both of mine and held it to my cheek, and he smiled.

"Oh, do not look at me so." His voice was the same as the previous night -- only last night, I thought distantly. He stroked my cheek with his thumb. "A smile … better suits a hero."

The echo rent my heart, but despite everything, I did smile. Looking into his eyes, it was the most natural thing in the world, just as it always had been. Everything I felt, all the love in my heart, was mirrored in his eyes.

His hand grew heavy. He traced my lips with his thumb, and then his arm dropped to his side. With a last sigh, he closed his eyes, and was no more. The bolt died with him.

All in the party stood in shocked silence. Beneath his armour, an edge of charred paper poked out. With trembling hands I drew it out.

It was the letter I'd sent him, worn and creased from many openings and refoldings.

I pressed it to my chest, and all at once it became too much.

It was the scream of a broken heart that heralded the end of the Dragonsong war, just as it had begun.


	5. Those We Have Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One year later, in the wake of the Stormblood wars, Freyja still struggles with her grief.

A strong wind blew through the Doman Enclave, warm and heavy with rain. I took in all the sounds and sights of the settlement in peacetime, still a new and strange transition from a generation of war. Belatedly I realized Alphinaud was still speaking to me. The boy was finishing his report, and one point in particular caught my attention.

"Wait, Alphinaud -- before you go --"

"Mmm?" The youth turned back and raised a casual eyebrow.

"Did you just say Dalmasca?"

"Yes. Initial reports are vague, but there's word that rebellions have struck up all across the province. Why do you ask?"

I hesitated. That was enough to make him turn back fully -- like his sister, he knew I rarely failed to speak my mind with him.

"It ... surely you know..." I trailed off. It was clear he didn't. Alphinaud just listened, nonplussed, with a look of polite confusion.

For all that I had seen more of my sisters scattered through adventuring parties these past months, it seemed none of them had spoken of where they'd come from, and no one had thought to ask.

Of course, I never had either, and no one had ever asked me. After all, to speak to others of what we’d left behind was pointless.

(Snow falling on branches of pine, muffling the sound of footsteps, the little ones all gathered by the fire as an elder matriarch told the story of a great tree of wonders -- all my sisters, all one within the forest, all bound by duty and by tradition -- that same matriarch taking a book from my hands and pressing a rough bow into it instead, scolding, steering me away from the horizon and the edge of the forest -- "You are Viera, and you must accept what that means." And taking that first step from out beneath the trees, my whole life at my back, every moment and gesture of love I'd ever had thrown away in an instant, all for a chance at a future where I could breathe, but could never come home again...)

I came back to myself. Alphinaud now looked downright concerned.

"Are you alright? Was it the Echo?"

"No ... no one else's memories. Just my own." I gave him a small, sad smile. "You've always been very polite, to never ask about what I am or where I came from. But if you hear any further news from Dalmasca, especially ... especially from the forests, please, I would know it."

I could see him turning it over in his mind, but he was much harder to read these days. Finally, he nodded.

"As you wish."

I nodded in thanks, and he cocked his head to the horizon and the adventure awaiting us.

"Shall we?"

I smiled.

"We shall."

\---------------

The rain that had poured from the heavens and clattered on the clay tiled roof had eased as the sun set. Now, as night settled in, I watched the clouds slowly drift apart to reveal a bright crescent moon.

I'd claimed my new favourite space: a cushion on the porch of the Kienkan, looking out onto a small garden with a pond and a willow tree. A steaming cup of green tea warmed my hand, and my small harp lay in my lap.

Without thinking, I began to pluck the strings, giving voice to the song that had been playing in my mind for days.

"That is not a song I've heard before," came a voice from the doorway. I glanced up, surprised, then smiled slightly as Hien took a seat beside me.

"It's Ishgardian, so no shame in that," I replied, matching his good humour. "A lullaby, and a popular song, one every person there knows."

Hien gazed out at the garden, as relaxed as I had ever seen him, moonlight reflecting in his dark eyes. He was quiet for a moment, just listening.

"Were you there long enough to learn their music?"

"Ah ... yes and no. It was taught to me. By ... someone very dear to me."

Hien's brows furrowed.

"Have I been keeping you from them? I hadn't even thought to ask."

I felt my face fall, and for a moment there was only the harp and the wind through the trees.

"No, though I thank you for your concern. He died before I even left Ishgard. But sometimes ... he lingers."

Hien nodded, silent and deep in thought. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft.

"Would you tell me about him?"

I should have expected it, the sudden knife in my breast, but like always, it surprised me. My hands faltered, the harp falling silent. I had never spoken a word, not to anyone. But here, now ... perhaps.

"His name was Haurchefant." I looked out over the garden, the moon reflected in the pond and in each tiny raindrop on every willow leaf. "When we met, I was in a ... difficult situation. Alphinaud and I but barely knew each other, and as far as we knew at the time we were the last of the Scions -- an imperial raid had destroyed most of our order in Ul'dah, and the others were scattered. We traveled with a brilliant engineer and inventor, but somewhat like Yotsuyu, he had lost a great deal of his memories. We were trying to locate his airship in order to deal with a primal ... well, that's another story.

"We had to try to navigate the closed and icy realm of Coerthan bureaucracy, and everyone we met was at best completely unhelpful and at worst actively trying to kill us."

"That sounds like your regular life, yes," Hien's eyes sparkled as he dodged my playful swat.

"Yes, yes. But then we met Haurchefant. And the first thing he did was offer us seats by the fire and insist no one stand on ceremony. He was always like that -- he'd never met a stranger. Then we helped save his friend, and that made us friends for life."

"It sounds like his was a kind and happy nature," Hien mused.

"It was. He was no fool, and in a fight he was deadly, but he took up arms solely in defence of his home, his people, his loved ones. Left to his own devices, he would sooner escort household pests to nearby wilds with food and a blanket than trap them."

At that Hien smirked; we both knew Yugiri had once caught him doing the same thing.

"I saw a bit more of him in you the other day, too," I added. "When we were checking that ship and swimming in the Ruby Sea. He knew the value of living in the moment, and reveling in the simple joys in life. Being with him always reminded me of that. Being with you ... if you'll permit me saying so, reminds me the same."

The man grinned, his whole face lighting up.

"Not at all. I am honoured you think it of me."

I smiled a little in return, but couldn't manage much. After a short moment I cleared my throat.

"Haurchefant would ... how can I put this? Ishgard was everything to him; I know he would have seen the war there out to the very end, no matter what. But he wanted to see beyond the borders, too. I truly believe his enthusiasm would have extended to Doma, its wonders and its people. At times I can almost hear him here, clear as a bell, exclaiming in delight at every bit of strangeness and beauty I see."

Hien kept his gaze on me; I could feel it.

"How did he die?"

I nearly dropped the teacup, then gripped it to keep my hands from shaking. Tea spilled on my robe.

"Ah!" Hien exclaimed, dismayed, and rummaged around until he produced a clean cloth. "I apologize, I should not have asked."

I dabbed at the spreading stain absently. I never consciously made a decision; I was trapped in the memory, and the words came on their own.

"You should understand, Lord Hien: we were lovers. Partners. Dear friends. And we fought the Archbishop and his corruption of the church, together."

I paused, my throat too tight for a moment to speak.

"There was ... an attack, on all of us, but focused on me. It was some kind of magic. I couldn't ... Haurchefant tried to shield me, save me. And he did, but ... his own shield shattered. He ... he'd sworn to be my shield, when we..." I took a long, shuddering breath. "I couldn't save him. All my studies, all my magic, it wasn't enough. But ... in his final moments, he only wanted to see me smile."

Hien gently took the tea from my hand and the harp from my lap as I shook like a leaf, trapped in the memory of Haurchefant's eyes and the light fading from them. Then, slowly -- time enough to pull away, had I wished to, I realized -- he folded me into a hug.

I did not pull away. I leaned into it, breathed his soap-and-woodsmoke scent, and all at once the tears came and would not stop.

"It's alright, usagi," he murmured, stroking my hair and my now-flat ears. "Grief is important." His touch was gentle, but warm. "I know you did everything you could. You always do, for everyone. I have seen it with my own eyes. You can let others do the same for you."

It was as though I'd been waiting all this time to hear those words. All at once, everything I'd held so tightly inside me spilled out as tears -- sorrow, anger, longing, fear, the agonizing loneliness and isolation from everyone around me.

Eventually my tears ran dry, and we sat together in the moonlight, listening to the wind. I moved my head on his shoulder to look up at him. He looked down at me.

"Did ... you call me something earlier? Usa ... something?"

Hien's cheeks burned red.

"Ah. I thought I kept it in my head." He smiled sheepishly. "The word itself, usagi, just means rabbit. Or ... what is the word for small rabbits?"

"Bunny?"

"Yes. That. It ... came to me the first time I saw you. But I thought it would be impolite to nickname the great warrior of two realms after a small and fuzzy creature."

I turned my face into his shoulder and tried to stifle my laughter, but I couldn't keep myself from shaking.

"Freyja? Are you alright? I am sorry, I should not have..." he trailed off as I lost my composure and giggled helplessly. A wide grin lit his handsome face, and he laughed out loud.

"Dare I hope this means you will not punish me for my terrible manners?" Hien asked finally.

"I think I can overlook it this time," I replied, matching his good humour again. "And I know it wouldn't do for the lord of Doma, but if you had a mind in less formal circumstances, you could call me that. If you wanted." I pulled away to look at him seriously. "You're Hien first, to me. I never liked pedestals."

He reached up and mussed my hair affectionately.

"Neither do I, usagi," he smiled.

We stayed out there for a while longer, just enjoying the night and the company.

I think I must have fallen asleep, though. I have vague memories of being carried through the darkened halls, of being tucked into blankets, and of a hand stroking my hair. And then, nothing.


	6. Confidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Freyja put her own concerns aside to focus on the Light that plagued the First -- and threatened an Eighth Umbral Calamity in the Source. But matters of the heart have a funny way of sneaking into one’s life when least expected...

Time has changed me, I know. My time so far spent in the First doubly so. But nothing could have prepared me for how thoroughly it changed the people I loved.

"How dare you?!"

I had barely taken two steps from "Matoya's" door when the words fell from my lips as I glared at Thancred's back. He stopped dead for a breath, then whirled around.

"And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?" he asked in his silkiest, most dangerous tone. His glare matched my own.

"That entire display back there! Not to mention your treatment of the poor girl all this time. She knows how you feel about her, you know. Matoya was right."

"Oh, go on then, tell us what you really think. Bless us all with your unparalleled wisdom."

My mouth twisted at his sarcasm, but part of me was glad of it, for it made what had to happen that much easier. Only the truth. I steeled myself.

"You act like a father who can't bear his own daughter, just because she looks like his dead wife."

"You DARE--" Thancred lunged forward, fist raised -- and found his punch deflected by a barrier Eos raised around me. He bounced back and just barely kept his feet. His eyes burned into mine. "You have no idea how I feel. You have no idea what it's like --"

"To lose someone I love? To live every waking moment with the emptiness of their absence like an open wound? To see reminders of them everywhere and be forced to carry on regardless? To know they died because I failed to save them?"

To his credit, Thancred remained silent. I could see him processing, and the exact moment he caught my meaning. He'd been in Ishgard; he was no fool. At that he sneered and stalked away.

I could sense the others behind me, hovering in the doorway, but I couldn't compose myself well enough to face them. So I simply stood there, trying to recall how to breathe.

A gentle hand touched my shoulder. I felt the warmth of breath on my cheek.

"A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved, my lady," Urianger spoke quietly, his low voice for my ears alone. "When our tasks are fulfilled to our satisfaction this eve, pray find me where the moon rises, and thou may'st lay thy burden at our feet for a time, if such is thy wish."

I turned to answer, but he was already gone.

I had been privy to all the whispers within our group about Thancred and his grief. Was it possible they also spoke of mine? That would be unnecessary, surely. They could just ask--

But it’s not in their nature to ask, I realized. It has never been in any of our natures. One might seek to confide, and be welcomed, but confidence was never forced.

And though we’d shared years of our lives, I realized all at once that I had never truly confided in any of them. Looking up at the sky, at the Light that sang of death, I began to think that perhaps it was finally time for that to change.

After all, what did I have left to lose?


	7. Guiding Star

I climbed the eastern rise just as Urianger had said. If I turned back and looked very hard, I could faintly make out an orb of slightly brighter light in the glowing sky, which I took to be the moon.

I have never missed a proper night sky so much in my life.

"I fear I must admit, the endless day hath never ceased to discomfit me," came a voice from behind me. I turned to see Urianger seated with his back to a fallen tree. I smiled and joined him, my aching bones happy for a moment's seat in the grass.

"I don't know how you've managed it all this time. I've been here two weeks and I'm already going mad."

"Ah, but madness is relative, is it not?" His smile was gentle, with a warmth that carried up to his golden eyes. As I sat beside him he offered me a flask of tea, which I gratefully accepted. But as it reached my tongue...

Mint. Sweet mint. A howling blizzard, a roaring fire, sweet whispers...

Urianger must have seen it, for he touched my shoulder once more. I set the flask down and tried, again, to remember how to breathe.

"Wouldst thou lay bare thy burden?" He asked after a moment. I sighed, but I already knew -- I could feel the words in my mouth already.

"The drowned kingdom, as it stood before the Flood, was by all accounts extremely similar to Ishgard. So much so that looking at the sunken, ruined buildings, I saw ghosts of people I loved there."

"Many moons saw thee in Ishgard, is that not so?"

"That's true. But more than that ... Ishgard is home to those who are among the closest I've ever had to real family. And I saw them ... Count Fortemps, Artoirel, Emmanellain, destroyed along with their city, and the shield..." My throat closed, and I choked back a sob.

"Say what thou must, but no more than thou canst bear."

"No, I ... did I ever tell you what happened while we were based in Ishgard, during the Dragonsong war?"

"I have heard tales and reports from Mistress Tataru and Master Alphinaud, but not from thine own lips."

Something about that caused me to blush, which made for a very confusing moment. I closed my eyes and reminded myself, again, to breathe.

"There was a warrior there, a brave and noble commander, with the purest heart I have ever known. He was generous, cheerful, and had never met a stranger. From my first journey to Coerthas he embraced and helped us." I took a deep breath, steeling myself.

"His name was Haurchefant de Fortemps." The pain was there with his name, but I bore it. It really did seem easier each time I did. "Aye, the same as the others I mentioned. He was the third brother, and my ... well, we were ... I don't know what we'd have become, but I loved him, as he did me. We were lovers, briefly, all too briefly."

Urianger was quiet, watching me patiently. I could feel his warmth close beside me, warding off the Light's chill.

"He died protecting me. All I had left was his shield. That was what I saw in that vision of fire and death."

He sighed, a low hum in his throat.

"I see now why he was so close to the front of thy mind."

"Well, yes, but..." I hesitated, though I know not why, given his own visions. "In my journey through the Rift, I saw many faces, souls of those now lost to us. Haurchefant was one of them. I heard his voice, clear as, well, day. I tried to reach for him ... in truth, part of me didn't even mind the idea of dying if it meant we could be together again." I took a long, ragged breath, shocked at my own confession.

"So, that's what I meant. I loved him more than I ever thought possible, and that wound may always be there. But, as always, I have pressed on. As needed. No matter what. And I certainly have not taken it out on anyone traveling with me, especially one so young."

Long silence followed. I glanced up at Urianger and found he sat very still, eyes closed, listening and pondering and breathing. A thought lit my mind.

"You know what I speak of. You feel it too, don't you? Her heart was always so open, just like his, and you..."

He nodded, and his face held such sorrow that I knew he understood.

"Where the moon shineth, the dark of night is still, and by their union is beauty beheld." He cast his eyes to the glaring sky. "She never had the patience for my little fears, and she loved fiercely. No world will ever see her like again."

"Does it ever get easier?"

He tore his gaze from the heavens and looked at me, a soft light in his eyes I couldn't name.

"In time it becomes worn, and the pain from the wound eases, like a scar. It will still pain thee from time to time, but even this can become easier to bear if thou turn'st not from it." He studied my face, that light in his eyes growing deeper, softer. "If thou hast the fortune, the light of others in thy life may also help guide thee."

I felt my ears twitch with my curiosity, and hoped he didn't notice.

"Is that what you found?"

"Perhaps." His gaze flickered up to my ears briefly -- damn it -- and the shadow of a smile crossed his lips. "If each soul were likened to a star, I know of one or two that may be considered like unto the Star of the North, that guides wayward wanderers to safer ports, whether it knows it to be so or not. Though I confess, despite my efforts and all I have learned here, it has been a difficult path to walk without the stars in view."

My mind raced to follow all the threads of the conversation at once, and part of me was thrilled by it -- very few people could ever challenge my mind the way Urianger could, even other fellow scholars.

"Is it easier now, after all these years?"

He thought on it for a moment.

"In some ways, it is. Distance in both space and time can serve to heal, as can fulfilling the tasks left undone by the one who is gone." He nodded to my pack, where the white auracite was carefully stowed. "But to spend so long in relative solitude did cause my heart to ache in a way that such a life never had before."

"I wonder ... maybe that's why I try to keep myself in the midst of other people," I mused. It hadn't really occurred to me before. "I've spent more time with armies, councils, traveling companions, than I did before, though my life was certainly busy even then."

"Does thy heart grow disquiet in this moment of calm, then? I know mine own company is often not considered much." He sounded at ease, but after so long, I had learned to pick up on the quirk of his lips, the tilt of his head -- he was partly in jest, but mostly serious, and a little anxious. Without thinking I mirrored his own gesture and placed my hand on his shoulder.

"I appreciate your concern, and with other people, or at another time, I might be restless, but right now, with you, I'm not." The truth surprised me even as I said it. When had I last felt calm? But sitting with him, high above any cares that awaited us, I truly did feel some measure of peace.

"I am glad. I would wish no less for my guiding star."

It took me a moment to understand the full meaning of his words. When I did, I felt my blush burn across my cheeks, all the way to my nose. I would have turned away, but I saw that Urianger's ears were also burning red.

Still, I could not formulate a response, and he seemed to have reached the end of his words as well. Instead I moved my hand from his shoulder to the crook of his arm and moved closer to sit right by his side. He stiffened, then relaxed, and leaned a little into me as I did him. I rested my head on his shoulder. He reached up and brushed some of my hair from my face, his touch a gentle caress.

"When last we met in the Source, was thy hair not the colour of a roiling storm?"

"Oh, yes." The sudden question surprised a smile out of me. "Many Viera have very light hair, but in some cases, one may find her hair darkens with age. I had been trying to deny it, young as I am, but after all that has happened, I gave up and let it do as it willed."

"A fine choice," he murmured. "Dark as night and shadow. Always didst thou reflect the active principle." As he brushed my hair back, his fingertips trailed across the tattoo on my cheek. His brow furrowed as he traced the design.

"I thought you might notice," I admitted, voice soft. "It isn't the same, of course, but..."

"Sharlayan nonetheless," he finished. I nodded.

"I spoke with Krile. She mentioned the icons' origins as part of an ancient language, and that some were extant but not used to denote any kind of rank, nor any part of modern Sharlayan culture at all. And this one was..."

"Hope."

"Yes," I whispered. "What I strive to be, perhaps -- that was why Krile first suggested it -- but more, my hope that I would find you all again. That even this would not separate us. After everything, I ... I needed to keep something close. Something to prove that all of it was real."

I felt as much as heard his sigh. He cupped my cheek in his hand, thumb grazing once more over the mark.

"We were the light that guided thee, then, as thy light guided us." He gave a low, soft laugh, and the sound of it sent shivers through me.

The truth of it set my mind racing. I had thought of the Scions like family -- Thancred and Alphinaud, my brothers; Papalymo, my gruff but well meaning uncle; Minfilia, Lyse, Y'shtola, Tataru, Alisae, Yugiri and Moenbryda, the sisters I hadn't realized I needed. But Urianger had always been something separate. I'd always assumed it was just that I didn't know him as well, and at the beginning, that may well have been true.

But there was no one else I could talk to about research or prose or poetry, no one who understood my love of verse and song so well -- despite Thancred's declarations to the contrary. No one else who proved as formidable an opponent at chess, a tradition I'd begun with him before bringing it to Coerthas with me.

And, like Alisae, I had always trusted him, even during that dark time when all the analytical parts of my mind had screamed not to.

"Yes," I said finally, trying to put order to my racing thoughts. "You most of all." He went very still, but I couldn't stop myself. "I never thought about it, never let myself think about it, barely let myself think about anything at all for fear I'd fall apart completely, but..." Words failed me. He locked my gaze with his, his face unreadable.

"I had hoped to assist in relieving thee of thy burdens, not to add more," he drew away slightly, uncertain. I reached up and brushed away a lock of his own hair from his clear golden eyes. The mere caress made his eyelids flutter, and my heart fluttered in response.

"You are not a burden, Urianger. And your reminder that to speak of pain is to relieve it is exactly what I needed." He sighed.

"Such grace from thy lips," he whispered. My heart leapt. He was so close I could feel his breath on my skin, and I felt myself drawn closer, caressing his cheek as his hand slid to the back of my neck. I paused just shy of him, wanting to give him a choice. And he made it.

His lips were soft, so soft, his first kiss gentle and uncertain. I returned it with all the passion I could bear. We parted for less than a breath before he pressed his lips to mine again, now warm and firm and decided, gentleness and passion in one. I sighed into the kiss and he drew me closer, cradling me against the cold, bright night.

From behind us came a squeak and a rustle of foliage. We sprang apart and whirled around just in time to see two shocks of bright white hair pop up from a nearby bush.

Alphinaud looked as mortified as I felt. But Alisae had a huge grin plastered across her face.

"I knew it!" She squeaked. "You two are both so shy, we thought you'd never figure it out!"

Urianger was too shocked for words. I caught his eye, terror catching my throat. Was this a mistake? Did he regret it?

And then, slowly, he smiled, and warmth bloomed in my chest. Alisae squeaked again. And I laughed.

She collapsed into giggles. Even Alphinaud managed a smile, half overjoyed and half relieved.

Urianger stood, and held out his hand to help me up. As I straightened, he pulled me close for another quick kiss, and I was all too eager to oblige.

"Let us all return home for the night," he said, loud enough for the twins to hear. They agreed, and the four of us made our way back. Urianger and I walked hand in hand.


	8. Light Through the Cracks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for suicidal ideation. Please be kind to yourselves if need be!

[It played over and over in my dreams: I look over my shoulder at Urianger, try to tell him without words what I wish I could say, what I should have said -- my last words. Vauthry dissipates, and his aether, that poisonous Light, floods into me. I expect to stop, for the excess of Light to simply freeze my heart and still my breath. Instead, I shatter. Silver blood on the marble floor. I know Urianger has a plan. The Exarch comes to save me, to take it all away. Urianger says to let him. I trust you, I want to say. Just make it stop. And the pain starts to ease. But then, a gunshot. And it all floods back, worse than before. "Such a disappointment. You're all but a sin eater now. Kill your friends or they'll kill you." There's no help, no plan, no saving grace. No guidance from Her. Nothing but Light. And I dissolve into it.]

I woke with a start, and for a moment I didn't know where I was. Sheets, pillow, but bright, too bright--

I sat up, and it all came back.

And the world cracked like glass, and the Light shone through.

It was just in my mind, I tried to think, but the pain was real. Blindly I staggered to the window and threw the shutters open, but the Light just beat down from the sky.

Dimly I heard shouting and hurried footsteps. Familiar voices. Familiar words, put together wrong. Why were they so wrong?

Then, just as suddenly, the blinding Light faded, the pressure ebbing away just enough to fill my lungs with air again. The pain dulled to the point that I realized I was on the ground, and my knees were bruised and sore.

I lay like that for a long moment, staring at the too-bright sky, unable to move.

"Fear not, Ryne. I will watch over her and care for her in thine absence. Thy rest is crucial and well deserved. And ... my sincerest thanks, once more."

My vision swam, and vertigo overcame me. A long moment passed in terror. Then the world settled again, and my mind with it.

I opened my eyes to find Urianger beside me, cradling me in his arms, his face drawn in utter anguish. I reached a shaky hand to stroke his cheek.

"Urianger..."

"Freyja," his voice cracked. "Lie still. Thou art safe, and whole, for the moment." He stroked my forehead with a blessedly cool hand, healing magic in his touch. The throbbing in my head lessened, but only some.

"I'm ... sorry..." I whispered, barely able to manage even that. Beyond his face, the unnatural sky shone as brightly as ever.

"Nay, 'tis no fault of thine." His strong arms held me tightly, his warmth seeping into my Light-chilled bones. "Thou art the hero we know you to be."

Cold tears rolled down my cheeks.

"It hurts," I gasped. I would never have dreamed of admitting it normally, but I could keep nothing in. "Cracks in my soul, that's how the Light gets in, and sometimes it happens all at once..."

He smoothed my hair and ears with gentle, shaking fingers.

"Ryne is seeing to thy ailments. Thou art safe, the Light suppressed. There is time yet."

He was so certain. So strong. I let myself believe for a moment -- one moment, like the forest kiss, or the moonlight reflected in his eyes.

"I thought I would die," I whispered. "I thought taking the Light in would kill me, like Black Rose kills. I thought it would be quick, that it would save everyone and everything, just one more step and then I could rest ... that all I risked was my own life."

With a tortured, stifled gasp, Urianger tightened his hold. He tried so hard to keep his countenance.

"Thy life is linked to many," he managed after a moment. "The risks thou chooseth to take are thine alone to choose, but never art thou alone in walking the path that follows."

My hands shook, but I took care to smooth his hair, stroke his cheek, trying to focus everything I was in the moment. With my thumb I caught a tear.

"I would never have made it all this way without you, you're right. But to end up here..."

Another spasm of pain racked my body, Light blinding me and roaring in my ears. I vaguely felt Urianger hold me close and mutter incantations, and in a moment it eased.

The sorrow was unbearable. The pain unending.

"Kill me," I whispered, voice cracking. "Before I consume anyone, before it's kill or be killed, before I wander the land as a husk preying on aether ... if you can do it safely, please..."

I felt more than heard the sob caught in his throat.

"Freyja..." He took a long breath. "I will see thee safely through. Full long are the years left to us, and the nights we have ahead. Thy heart is my charge, as thou holdest mine, and I..."

It took long moments for his words to truly reach me. For a moment, hope outweighed the pain.

"You love me...?"

"Once, long years ago, I swore to never allow such truths to go unspoken again, lest they never be heard. Yet as thou rose to meet thy fate I was once again silent. A grave mistake." He pulled away slightly to study my face. "My guiding star, weaver of fates ... yes, I love thee."

[Stay true to the moment,] Feo Ul had said, and it felt as though I passed into the eye of the storm. Just this moment. This truth.

"I love you," I whispered, and the words felt right on my tongue. "I trust you. Just don't ... don't let me..."

"I will protect thee," he continued, voice cracking. "Thou shalt not fall. Thou shalt know peace again. And we, I, shall be with thee."

I reached for him, and he for me, and we embraced. Long did I remain there in his arms. Bit by bit I felt the fear and pain dull, leaving the lure of sleep in their wake.

"I must leave to continue mine research, but I will never be far from thy side. Rest, dear heart."

And there, in his arms, I did.


	9. Beautiful Joy, Beautiful Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "isne uin" means "beautiful joy"; "isne sigun" means "beautiful light" in the Pixie language.

Waves. Sand. True sunlight.

The echoes of a dead people, who were scattered across the stars.

And the voice of the last, with a rare smile.

"Remember us..."

I woke surrounded by people, friends, loved ones. Smiles, laughter, relief. I stood, and delighted that it came without any pain. I could never explain it, but I could feel the difference -- the cracks were healed, made whole. I felt like myself again.

Out of habit, I did a head count, and was reassured with each -- until one.

"Where's Urianger?" Ryne asked.

Oh, gods.

We swam here.

"Oh, my sapling, you've returned!" Feo Ul fluttered from the sky in their pixie form, flitting about in excitement.

"Your timing is perfect, my isne fish," I called, and they grinned even wider.

"Oh, sune yak, you're learning! And your soul is back to its beautiful form. Nothing could make me happier."

"Actually ... could I ask a favour of you?"

They tilted their head, then spun through the air.

"Except that! That is even better! Name it, my sapling."

"Could you find my isne uin? I think he got lost in the ocean."

The others looked at me strangely, and Feo cocked their head.

Oops. That was out loud.

"‘Isne uin’? Who could capture my sapling's heart so?" They looked over the assembled crowd. "The riddle teller and stargazer is not here ... you mean...?"

I could feel myself blushing, and only managed to nod. They somersaulted in glee.

"Of course! Of course! Almost a pixie himself! If anyone could be worthy of you, he'd be close."

"Yes, but, um ... he can't swim. So I think he might be ... out there." I pointed out at the wide, unbroken ocean.

"No matter! He'll be here in a trice."

Feo flew off, yelling in pixie at the water as they went.

"So," Y'shtola smirked. "Not content with letting him simply wash up, are we?"

I blushed harder and glanced at Alisae. She shook her head, eyes wide and as innocent as she could make them.

"Oh, don't be tiresome. It didn't take a scholar to see what was happening. I've been with him all this time, remember. I'm just glad you feel the same way."

"Feel what way?" Thancred trudged over, pouring sand from one boot. Ryne skipped along behind him, her steps light enough to barely make a mark in the sand.

My face felt like it was on fire. I tried to say something -- anything -- but could only manage a slight sputter.

"And here I thought I was the one who was blind," Y'shtola responded, flicking her tail at Thancred.

"Ta da!"

Feo Ul's ringing voice was followed by a massive burst of water as the ocean spat out a very wet, very bedraggled Urianger.

I ran to him before I even knew what I was doing. He struggled to his knees, coughing and spitting up sea water. A tiny, indignant crab fell from its perch in his hair.

"Are you alright?" I checked him over with sight, touch, and magic as he slowly got to his feet.

"I am whole, and no worse the wear for the experience, save for my pride." He looked blearily out at the crowd, doing the same head count I had, before settling his gaze on me. His brow furrowed.

"'Isne uin'?"

"Uh," I stammered. "I hadn't meant to say it out loud. I'm not sure if that's even the right term, but based on what I'd gleaned from your notes I'd thought it might fit, and--"

Urianger pulled me close and silenced me with a kiss. I was as stunned as the crowd, but after a breath I threw my arms around him and kissed him back, and a chorus of cheers rose up around us.

"It is a fine choice, isne sigun," he murmured in my ear, sending a shiver up my spine. "And we have long years and nights ahead to learn more, if you wish."

I grinned and buried my blushing face in the crook of his neck.

"I do," I whispered. "I do."


	10. Revelry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short expansion of a scene briefly described in a throwaway line of Thancred’s after the end of the main quest. It was too good not to at least try to do it justice.

Stars shone on a celebrating city. All of the Crystarium was full of dance and song, and the Winding Stairs was at the heart of it all.

"Come now, this is the perfect night for a bit of revelry, don't you think?"

Thancred grinned at us from between a blushing Mystal lady and a Vii with a delightfully predatory gleam in her eye.

I glanced between them, then over to Urianger. The twinkle in his eyes matched my own, and he nodded ever so slightly.

"Ah, yes, just like your bit of revelry in Ul'dah who nearly skewered us over a cart full of ore," I said lightly. The Vii's eyebrows shot up.

"Or the proprietor of the inn in the forest village, with 'buxom hospitality to spare,' if I recall thy words aright," Urianger added. The Mystal girl eyed Thancred as if seeing him for the first time.

"Or the crowd of women who all found you at the Rising Stones at once and nearly flayed you alive."

"The enchanting tea woman in Hingashi whom we discovered was unmatched with a short blade."

"The unmarried heiress with the aunt of many hat pins."

"Or thy conquest of the Lalafellin beast tamer with the whip--"

"You promised you wouldn't mention her again!" Thancred sputtered as the rest of us dissolved into giggles. Through tears of laughter I saw the Vii grab the Mystal's hand, and the two stole off into the crowd together, giggling conspiratorially. I waved, silently wishing them well.

"Fine, fine, I get it," Thancred continued, now all but pouting. "You'll make a damn monk out of me, I swear. Bloody hypocrites, too, the pair of you, you're practically on top of each other--"

"Who's a monk on who?" Ryne piped up as she wove her way out of the crowd. Thancred jumped.

"Uh, never mind, nothing."

"Y'all gonna actually drink anything?" The bartender grunted. Ryne turned and ordered twilsey with a bright grin, mollifying him. Urianger ordered us both mead with a smile that set my heart fluttering.

"And you?" He turned to Thancred, who sat with a face of stone.

"...Water."

I collapsed into giggles.


	11. Those We Can Yet Save

I paced carefully around the darkened room, placing each crystal by each body in turn. Urianger I saved for last.

Though I knew all would soon be well, seeing him lying motionless and cold terrified me. As I stood over him, all of a sudden I was back in Ishgard, chill wind biting my skin, placing one perfect flower on Haurchefant's breast as all the city came to mourn him. His now whole armour gleamed in the early morning sun, his sword clasped in his hands forever in death...

It was Tataru who roused me. With a look, I could see she understood. She had been there at the funeral, after all, and it was her shoulder I had cried on when I could bear it no longer that day.

I looked around for Krile. She was checking everyone over, and when she noticed me, she nodded. The two of us focused, joining our aether for a moment to give each crystal the slight nudge it needed to begin.

The glow of all five souls filled the room with brilliant light. Alisae was the first to wake, groggy but determined, as usual. Alphinaud was but a breath behind.

Thancred announced his presence with a groan not unlike the one he used to make when he woke with a hangover. Y'shtola was silent, but sat up gracefully, brows furrowed as she inspected her surroundings.

Urianger, however, lay still. Though all three of us noticed at once, I was by his side before the others reached his bed. I don't even remember moving.

I sat on the very edge of the bed and took his hand in mine. It was warm, warm as it had ever been, and somehow more ... solid, more real.

"Wake up," I whispered. "Wake up, isne uin. Come back to us."

The crystal flared one last time -- a final bit of red light -- then faded. I gripped his hand a little tighter -- and he squeezed my hand back.

I choked back something between a sob and a laugh as he opened his eyes. Slowly, slowly he sat up. I leaned back to give him space as he looked around the room, checking each of our friends in turn.

It struck me that maybe I was being too forward among so many people, even if they were our dearest friends. But just as I thought to draw away, his gaze settled on me, and he gently squeezed my hand again. With his other he brushed back a lock of my hair and stroked my cheek.

"Isne sigun," he murmured. "However couldst I have continued to sleep, knowing thou wouldst be beside me as I awoke?"

I could feel a blush creeping up my cheeks and tears in my eyes all at once.

"The others came to, but you didn't ... I thought..."

He smiled gently, and placed a soft finger on my lips to quiet me, followed by his own lips in a warm, soft kiss.

Behind me I heard Tataru gasp and Krile make an incredible noise of confusion and shock.

I smiled against his lips, blushing to the tips of my now twitching ears. Urianger kissed my forehead and pulled away slightly. He looked at me with such warmth, passion, tenderness, hope -- I will never forget it, as long as I live.

The others, however, barely noticed or cared at all. Bless their hearts. And all things continued as they should.


	12. The Way Home

"Whither dost thy feet lead thee?"

I stopped pacing, my footsteps no longer echoing in the stone halls. Urianger stood in the doorway leading to Dawn's Respite, dressed in a simple soft robe, a lit candle and holder in one hand.

I felt caught between my desire to go to him and my desire to run, and instead stayed still.

"I wish I could say," I sighed.

"Do thy dreams haunt thy sleeping hours still?"

I only nodded. We had shared a bed more than once -- he had heard and seen the effects of my nightmares of Lightwardens, of dragons, even of the Final Days. Others were less painful, but ... strange.

"I feel like something is missing. I dream of such odd things -- a strangely coloured fire in a grate, or the taste of a fruit I've never eaten, or the sun rising in the mist over buildings I've never seen. And one instinct above all, one I wish I didn't have."

Urianger padded softly across the room, bathing me in the glow of the candle.

"What is it that calls thee?" His voice was soft, his expression one of compassion, but I could sense his echo of anxiety. I bit my lip.

"I need to go home," I said quietly. "And I shouldn't. I'm already here, in the Source, in the Rising Stones ... with you. So why...?"

He stepped closer and stroked my cheek.

"Thy burdens are great, and were ere any of us first set foot in the First. The turning of the years thou didst not see afforded me a measure of peace that thou hast, to this point, been denied." He searched my face, a small furrow in his brow. "There is only one other place, and few other people, that thou hast ever described to me as home or family. If my thoughts are aright, then it is true that there are matters yet left unresolved there for thee, for Ala Mhigo called thee from the mountain snows ere the last of the fires of the Dragonsong War burned out."

I closed my eyes and let out a long, slow breath, turning the thought over in my mind.

It had been months since my last visit to Ishgard, and it had been all too brief -- just barely long enough to nominally recover from my wounds from the Ghimlyt Dark. I had seen Count Edmont in passing, and Aymeric and Lucia but briefly, and that was all.

My final stop had been to Haurchefant's grave, high above Dragonshead. But I'd known I had precious little time there, and hadn't stayed long.

I thought of Fortemps manor, of the roaring fire and mugs of mulled wine, of my ridiculous brothers who had claimed themselves as such, and, as I thought of him privately, my father -- for who else had ever been such to me?

And I felt a pang of longing in my chest.

I opened my eyes, but couldn't look at him through gathering tears.

"I'm sorry."

Urianger carefully set the candle aside and gathered me in his arms. Tall as he was, I barely came up to his chin, save for my ears. I rested my head on his shoulder and breathed in his scent -- tea, parchment, old books, and something uniquely him, like desert amber. It was something I'd never noticed before we returned -- something unique to his body, now finally his own again.

He ran his fingers through my hair, nails scratching ever so slightly, and stroked the base of my ears. A small, muffled groan of both comfort and pleasure escaped me, and I felt the rumble of his low laugh in his chest.

He always knew exactly what to do. I'd never considered what it would be like to be the object of his keen observation, but at times like this, I had to concede I enjoyed the results.

He held me for a long while as the candle burned low. As I relaxed enough for my ears to lie flat against my hair, he took to stroking them gently.

"Thou art a mortal woman first," he said at last. "Thy need for rest is the same as all others', and the wounds of thy soul do not knit as easily as the wounds of thy body." His stroking halted for a moment, and he gently pressed me closer. "As much as thou hast gained, the pain of what thou hast lost, and nearly lost, is no less real. And the strain on thy mind, and on thy soul..." His low voice cracked. "T'was near beyond enduring."

A flash of Echoed memories came to me: [watching the Light enter my body, feeling a mix of swelling pride and fear, then horror and sorrow as the Light began to burst forth, all too much, silver blood spattering the ground. Resolve shattering into terror as the gunshot rang out. Rushing forward as Emet-Selch took his leave, trying to hold me still even as Ryne worked to siphon the excess Light. Looking down at my broken body, pale as bone, silver blood dripping from my lips, and from my eyes, like tears.

And those same eyes, hours later, open but barely seeing, too-pale lips cracked and parted in agony, shaping the desperate plea: "Kill me." Knowing there was nothing to be done. Utter, profound heartbreak.]

I came to with a gasp that startled both of us.

"Art thou well?" I nodded, and he searched my face. "T'was the Echo, then?" I nodded again before finally finding my voice.

"Scenes from the final Lightwarden, and after," I said quietly. "But not my memories of it."

Urianger sighed and pulled me closer into a tight embrace.

"Thou shouldst not have to carry my burdens as well as thine own," he whispered.

"Sharing burdens goes both ways," I protested, muffled though I was by his chest.

"I ... cannot refute that," he admitted after a moment. "But mine own are not so great. Tis thine that must needs be set down, in the place whence first they came." He stroked my hair and ears again, and I wondered if it comforted him as much as it did me. "Well do I know that such things must sometimes be done alone."

I nodded, as best I could in my position. He pressed his lips to my forehead, a gesture of comfort and reverence and love that could only come from him. Then he pulled away and tilted my chin with a gentle finger.

"Could I persuade thee to postpone thy departure until morning? Ere the sun rises, I would love thee in whatever manner thou chooseth."

The passion in his golden eyes, flickering in the candlelight, took my breath away.

"Yes," I whispered. "Gra dom, isne uin."

He leaned in and whispered against my lips, "Conai, isne sigun. Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a small liberty and claimed "gra dom" to mean "love me" and "conai" to mean "always" in the Pixie language.


	13. Picking Up the Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Freyja tries to unravel memories of Amaurot, the intricacies of gaining a family, and facing her past. Introspection in the form of journal entries.

[From the journal of Freyja Kisne in the third year of the Seventh Astral Era]

8th Sun of the Second Umbral Moon

It is only now, away from the First, away from all those whom it affected, that I can admit this even to myself: some part of me recognized Emet-Selch from the very beginning.

It warred with my fear and distrust, of course, and he only made it worse at every turn with his mercurial moods. But each time we met, the pull I felt towards him grew stronger. I felt like there was something I'd forgotten, something important.

When he first unfolded part of the story of his people, the Ancients, the Final Days, the summoning of Zodiark and Hydaelyn, I wasn't ... surprised, exactly. It was like remembering something from a dream. The same dream from which I knew Emet-Selch, or so I hazily thought.

When he spoke of Amaurot, I felt it again. A great surge of both joy and sorrow, not unlike when I was in the Kingdom of Voebert and saw, within it, Ishgard.

He mistook my expression. Or perhaps he was simply lashing out again, in fear and grief, even while being so vulnerable. He spoke of heartbreak, of having lost family, friends, love.

It was only the briefest moment, like the Echo but less defined: looking down at him as he lay beneath a tree, sprawled and carefree, his white hair loose, and those same eyes looking up at me. His lips moved as though he spoke, but I couldn't recall the words. But I felt ... happy. Whole.

And then I was back inside myself, his Garlean face sneering at me. His expression faltered -- he must have seen on my face that I knew him.

And he left. Fled, I think. I can't blame him -- I think I would have if he hadn't.

I never got the chance to consider what that meant, for it was only hours later that he destroyed our hope of containing the final Lightwarden. He spoke with such hatred and revulsion. I could feel it from him even through the haze of pain and Light. I thought then that maybe I was wrong, deluded, losing my mind from the Light.

Until we came to Amaurot.

I knew the city. I knew it. Knew how to use the buildings, recognized the streets. The language was comfortingly familiar, though of course none of us had ever heard it spoken.

I knew Hythlodeus when he spoke to me, as much as he knew me. He confirmed it for me: spoke of the colour of my soul, echoed by Ardbert's; called me his "new old friend".

At the end of Emet-Selch's gauntlet through the Final Days -- which was harrowing in itself -- I tried to reach out to him. All throughout my time in the city, I'd recovered countless scattered moments, impressions, thoughts. He ranted in his grief, set on his path, proclaimed himself the saviour of his people...

"Hades."

I spoke his name as it came to me, calling to him with everything I had. And he looked at me as though seeing me, truly seeing me, for the first time.

"No. No, it can't be..."

Looking back, hearing it in my mind, I think I spoke as those in Amaurot did. I can't say for certain.

"You do this out of love, Hades. I know. Your heart was ever full of love, and it shattered as we shattered. You are our living grief, and you cannot let go. But you must. This is bigger than you, than me, than us. There is more life now than there has ever been, and it deserves to live. We cannot change the past. Those who have passed, those who sacrificed themselves, they are gone. They made their choice. And if you continue to threaten everything they created, everything that has flourished in their wake, I will stop you."

He heard me. I know he did. But it was not enough.

At the end, when he was all but spent, his soul trapped and his being almost obliterated by the Light loosed from inside me, he looked at me as he once did, not a monster or an enemy but a tired man, broken with grief. White hair framed his eyes.

He held out his hand, and I took it. There were so many things I wanted to say, so many words and feelings behind his eyes.

But in the end, he only said, "Remember us. Remember that we lived."

It was a double meaning: remember Amaurot, the first people, their lives and their sacrifices, and where all we know was born.

And remember him, Hades, who he was, and that whoever echoed through me had loved him, and he them.

That shook me. I wanted to tell Urianger, Y'shtola, the Exarch, everyone -- but I didn't. I couldn't.

Then Elidibus resurfaced, and with so much new knowledge in my head, I recognized him, too, in a way I never had before.

I worried, of course, about his plan and how he was twisting people for his own ends. I hated how he used them. But beneath it all I felt something akin to what I felt for Alphinaud -- like he was a younger brother.

The gauntlet he forced me through was even worse than Hades' -- for where Hades had shown me his memories, Elidibus forced me through mine. Recent ones. Fighting against the people I loved. He made me strike down Urianger. Relive Haurchefant's death.

But after, after, after ... Hythlodeus gifted me fourteen crystals, each with a symbol of a constellation. Each that whispered in a different voice. And he saved one for last. One, he said, that should never have been made, but Hades in his capacity as Emet-Selch saw created anyway, out of the love he bore for its holder.

And that was Azem.

I was afraid of it, at first. Afraid to look too closely. Afraid to lose myself. It took tremendous focus to keep myself grounded just from switching between soul crystals; how much worse would this be, when we were as drops to the Ancients' flood?

Elidibus forced my hand. I had no choice. I used it to call allies -- maybe others with shards of Azem's soul? -- and to free us from the void. Though in truth, I think that was a gift from Hades. I saw him then, and saw him fade away.

Since then, I've been coming to terms with it all. That I am part of what was once Azem, who traveled the world and was a friend to all life, who took absurd risks to save things she loved.

I keep the crystal close. Now and then I hold it, try to attune to it a little more. Sometimes I get a faint sense of her with me when I do, like she's looking out for me, the way Hydaelyn sometimes does, but more ... personal.

It is probably inadvisable to do so when I'm already so at a loss about who I am, though, I admit. I feel like I'm re-learning everything.

11th Sun of the Second Umbral Moon

I'm living in the Fortemps manor, for now. Artoirel is still with the Alliance forces, but Emmanellain is about, being silly and young as usual. Count Edmont has him studying at the academy at present, which at least is giving him something to focus on.

It took me two weeks before I slipped up. Emmanellain was quite free about referring to me as his sister, just as Artoirel had been. One night he left to go gadding about, and Edmont and I ended up in a chess match.

The Count had always been a little stiff and formal, but I thought perhaps that was just who he was. He'd been less so with Haurchefant, but then, Haurchefant had had that effect on people.

But as we played, he spoke a little more. He was worried about Emmanellain, about his apparent aimlessness. I don't think he expected me to hear (many people underestimate a Viera's hearing) as he mumbled to himself wondering what he'd done wrong.

I couldn't help myself. As he went to move a piece, I said, "Don’t worry. You've always been a wonderful father to me."

The piece slipped as he faltered while setting it down. I froze. He stared at me.

"I mean, I never had a father before," I blathered. "Viera culture doesn't really work that way and I barely knew my mother either so I'm probably not a particularly good judge but you're very good to me and I trust you and I'm very happy to be here and I know I never mentioned it and maybe I remind you of him so if it makes you uncomfortable I won't mention it again--"

He held up a hand and, thankfully, I managed to stop talking.

"My sons have already said so, but I will repeat it: we are family. This is your home, if you want it. By law you are of our house, and by our hearts..." He faltered, and I was shocked to see him tear up. "You are as a daughter to me."

At that I did cry, and so did he, and everyone else in the house politely pretended not to notice.

I felt better after that.

I've also taken up the cause of the Ishgardian Restoration effort, after Tataru mentioned it. People recognize me there, now and then, but for the most part I'm simply one more botanist and artisan among many.

It feels like ages past since I dreamed of living here, making a life as a scholar, a seamstress ... a wife. How strange life is that I should be here now, both like and not like my dream.

I make it a point to walk past the Vault every day now, after going there with Ehll Tou. Until then I'd avoided it, but now I go inside or stay without, and I try to appreciate its beauty and see it as Haurchefant must have seen it.

I let myself think about him, now that I can. Sometimes I talk to him. I try to be kind to myself if I find I've forgotten something, like the colour of his eyes. It is a particularly exquisite pain to discover that, over time, you begin to forget their face.

I better understand Hades' and Elidibus' grief because of it.

26th Sun of the Third Astral Moon

As part of reconnecting with myself, I took a very particular mission involving strange auracite, a Garlean playwright ... and Ivalice.

I can never turn from those in need, but this was personal, too.

When I first left my tribe and the forest behind, I journeyed to Rabanastre. It was the gleaming city where all could make their fortune, and many Viera who left the forest came there.

I spent months there. I loved the grand old city, nestled like a jewel in the sands. But it was difficult to find work or a willing tutor, especially with pressure from the Empire increasing by the day.

In the end, I used all the money I had left to board a ship with a few fellow adventurers to Limsa Lominsa. I knew nothing of Eorzea. I just wanted to go where I could learn, and be of use.

Alphinaud told me the day the bombing of Rabanastre reached the Alliance. I had no time or space to truly process it.

And then, last week, I was there. Running through the ruins of streets and buildings I'd known like the back of my hand. Others around me commented on the devastation, but I could barely form words.

Grief upon grief upon grief.

As we flew back after, we passed over the forest where I was born. It felt so distant, like a memory from another life. More distant even than Amaurot.

Coming back to Ishgard felt like coming home.


	14. Epistles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A love letter to love letters.
> 
> Though the poem is my own, inspiration for the phrase “Come unto me” comes from razorXseraphim’s brilliant fic “Moments of Pleasure” (https://archiveofourown.org/works/19843414)

... It is good that I'm here. You were right about that. I am slowly coming to terms with everything that's happened -- and with how much has happened -- over these past few years.

But I must confess: I miss you terribly.

I hope your research into aetheric transference and the underpinnings of creation magics based on what we learned in Amaurot is going well. I'd love to hear more about it when I return (I don't think a letter could do it justice!).

You will be proud to hear this, I'm sure: I finally defeated Edmont in chess yesterday evening. Your student has become the master ... or as close as possible without defeating you.

I think of you often, and it gives me strength in all I do, knowing you're here, and safe, and doing what you love.

And if you should ever find your mind wandering in the dark and lonely hours, know that my thoughts turn to the warmth of your skin, the taste of your lips, the way your whispers in the dark send shivers up my spine. I hope you may be similarly pleased.

With all my love,

Freyja

\-----------

... Full glad am I to hear of thy deeds, and that thou hath found a measure of peace. Knowing that part of the city will be rebuilt by thy hand could only make it more of a home to thee.

The research proceeds apace, with some insights and input from both Y'shtola and Matoya, when they wish it. G'raha continues to volunteer everything at his disposal whenever possible, as well. Tis both strange and heartening to see him so invigorated after so many trials.

As for thy confession, I feel the same. Thy wellbeing is paramount; yet, often do I find myself dwelling upon such possibilities in the event of thy return.

Shouldst thou find it of interest, I have penned a few lines on the subject:

Come unto me  
As the sun on the horizon  
Sinking into silken night  
Swelling with the tide  
As the river meets the sea

Come unto me  
As the candle and the flame  
Melting into heat  
As thoughts drift away  
Like smoke upon the wind

Come unto me  
As winter snows fall  
To kiss thy frozen lips  
And light upon thy tongue  
In fleeting ecstasy

Come unto me  
As the rising sun blushes  
Let thy voice mingle  
With the songbirds' chorus  
At the climax of dawn

Come unto me  
As I guide thy hand  
Over peaks and valleys  
Of uncharted pleasures  
And familiar lands

Come unto me  
As the road-weary traveler  
With a blessing and a promise:  
Thy journey will be safe  
And will always lead thee home

Remember always that thou art loved, most dearly.

Yours,

Urianger


	15. The Dead Live in Memories

I used the small broom Matoya had given me to sweep dirt and snow from the grave, taking care to reach every part and settle fully into the moment. The few remains of old offerings I cleared away or placed safely nestled closer to the stone. In the space they left behind I placed a single, perfect Nymeia lily.

"I hope you like it," I spoke to the wind. "It's become something of a tradition."

I knelt before the grave of Haurchefant Greystone.

"It's been a long time, I know. Even longer for me, if you can believe it. Time moves differently between this world and the others.

"I know, I was surprised too. Shards? Other worlds? But it's all true. I was on the First, and years there passed in weeks here. I'm not sure you'd have liked it. Not like Doma, which I know you'd love. No, this place was … a nightmare. A breath away from destruction. And destruction of a shard means a Calamity here. One that would have killed me."

I let out a long, slow breath.

"Turns out it nearly killed me anyway. But only nearly. I was … a shield, there. A shield for everyone in the world. Like you. I thought -- I hoped -- you might be proud of me. I want to do right by the legacy you left behind.

"Your brothers are well. I know Emmanellain comes here, too, so I'm sure you know all about his life. Artoirel is due back from the front in a few weeks, at least for a time. Your father … our father, he's insisted, is doing quite well. He continues to put a great deal of effort into the restoration. Soon you'll see Ishgard whole and bright again."

I reached out to touch the stone, but couldn't bring myself to do it.

"I found out who the Ascians were, the ones who caused this madness. Who helped the ones who killed you. They … gods, they were just people, Haurchefant. They are what we used to be. Before Hydaelyn, before Zodiark, before the world was shattered. See, when the star was split into shards, everything on it was split, too. Our souls are pieces of a greater whole, scattered across shard worlds in the bodies of strangers. You shared your soul with six other people. Everyone does."

I drew Azem's crystal from my belt pouch and turned it over in my hands.

"Mine is … the souls in the Source are the closest to being whole. With every calamity, the pieces from the destroyed shard flow back here. We are stronger for it, despite the terrible cost. Strong enough that we might know who we were before … when we were all like the Ascians.

"My name, my title, was Azem. The Shepherd to the Stars. Walker of the world. Inspiration for Azeyma, Azim, worship of the sun. Reckless saviour of tiny, beautiful things.

"Ardbert had another piece of that same soul. He gave it to me willingly. So I suppose mine's stronger than most, now … and since then, I keep having dreams. I think they're memories. Azem's memories. And it terrifies me. After everything, the thought that I could lose myself now…"

Haurchefant's voice came back to me: "You are Freyja, first and always."

[That is good advice. He was wise, that one.]

My breath stopped. I realized belatedly that I had Azem's stone clutched tightly in my hand. And that voice in my mind had been Amaurotine.

[Ah, you were doing so well. You are still you. That is never going to change. I am just here if you need me.]

In the corner of my eye, I saw the vague impression of a robe, black hair, and a smile.

[You should unburden your heart before you go. That is why you came here, after all.]

As insane as the experience was, I also knew she was right. I drew on every focusing technique I knew and settled back into the moment.

"It's been two years, for me. I still think of you every day. Sometimes I talk about you, and it doesn't hurt as much. I know … I know you'd want me to live. To keep on living to the fullest for as long as I possibly can. So…"

I wavered. The stone in my hand was warm. The ghost of a reassuring hand settled on my shoulder.

"I'm in love with Urianger. It is different -- he's different -- it's a different happiness than you and I would have shared. But it is happiness. You can see it, I'm sure. I could never hide it from you. I hope … I know you well enough to know you'd be happy to see more love in the world."

I thought of Haurchefant's laugh, his embrace, his constant and unbridled sincerity. This time, I reached for the gravestone and touched it, the first time I'd ever done so.

If I live to be a thousand years old, I will never be able to explain what happened next. As I touched the grave with one hand and held Azem's stone in the other, I felt a sudden peace settle over me. Like my burden had been lifted, like my sins had been aired and forgiven. Like I had his blessing. And perhaps Azem's, too.

I sat there for a moment more, taking it all in.

"Thank you," I whispered.

The howl of the wind was the only response


	16. Family

"What are you making there, dear sister?"

I glanced up at Emmanelain's smiling face over my embroidery.

"Would you like to guess?"

The boy put on a great show of considering it. Honoroit sat beside him and appeared to be dying inside, struggling between blurting out the answer and seeing what Emmanellain would do next.

"Might it have ought to do with your work with the goldsmith up at the Astrologicum?" Count Edmont asked innocently from his armchair.

"I was going to guess that," Emmanellain protested, ignoring Honoroit's exasperated sigh.

"I didn't think you were given to such idle gossip," I said with a smile.

"Ah, but where my children are concerned, no gossip could ever be 'idle'."

"Is that silk?" Honoroit asked, unable to contain himself. I angled my work towards him.

"Yes, both the thread and the backing. To answer your question, this is for a dress. The hem, specifically, though I may continue the design around the sleeves as well."

"You haven't made such clothing in quite a while," Edmont raised his brow. "I had thought you might have given it over entirely in favour of work clothes for those at the Firmament."

I blushed.

"Ah, yes, I do still help with that, of course. But this … is for me. I haven't done this since…"

Silence filled the room. I knew we all remembered how we grieved for Haurchefant. What we gave up. What we lost. I took a deep breath and made another careful stitch.

"Besides, Ishgardian fashion needs to be shaken up. And if I can't take you all to Doma, then I'll bring a bit of Doma back to you. A mix of Ishgardian and Doman fashion."

"Do you think that would help foster further trade between the realms?" Edmont asked. I shrugged.

"Possibly, though I couldn't say precisely how." I snipped the trailing thread from a finished section. "Honestly, I just missed the wider sleeves. And silk is quite good in the cold."

"You really are determined to make your mark everywhere, aren't you?" Emmanellain grinned. I matched him.

"Only as much as you are, dear brother."

He laughed at that, truly laughed, and for a moment I saw Haurchefant in him. He left soon after, Honoroit trailing behind him trying in vain to persuade the young man to attend to his studies.

I returned to my silk and stitches, and the room settled into a comfortable silence, fire crackling in the hearth.

"You're leaving again, aren't you?"

I hesitated, pausing mid-stitch.

"I can see it in your eyes," Count Edmont answered my unspoken question. "You had a light in them when first you came to us so long ago. I've not seen it since … that day. Years ago. But I see it now."

I set my work down and tried to look at him.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, no, my girl. You have nothing to be sorry for. I am glad to see it." He leaned forward and took my hand. "I know he would be, too. All I want … for all of my children is that they … they are happy and as safe as they can be." His voice cracked, as I'd not heard since that day in the parlour. I squeezed his hand.

"I promise I am. You're a good man, Edmont. I'm proud to call you my father."

He gave a small, rare smile, and I saw Haurchefant there, too. He truly was still with me, with us, in a thousand little ways.

We sat back, taking our occupations back up.

"I have changed, though, you're right. For the better, I think."

"How so?"

"I visited his grave today."

Edmont was quiet a moment.

"I did not know you went."

"Honestly, I didn't, before today. I kept vigil the day Aymeric announced that Ishgard was rejoining the Alliance, and I visited once after the Ghimlyt Dark, when Estinien saved me. But not since. I just … needed to tell him."

"What did you need to tell him? Was it about your travels?"

"In a way," I smiled -- he and Emmanellain and Artoirel had all heard the tales of the First by now. "There was a small part, a personal part, that I left out."

"Ah. Forgive me, I have no wish to pry."

"It's alright, I want to talk about it now. I just … felt like he should know first. Maybe that's silly."

Edmont smiled warmly.

"It is not."

"Well…" I took a deep breath -- center, present, like Feo Ul taught me. "In my time there, I was closer to many of my fellow Scions than I'd had the chance to be before. One of their number is an Elezen man, Urianger. A quiet, reserved individual on first meeting. An Archon, a healer, a scholar, a historian, one who studies all things arcane and esoteric. He also looked out for Alphinaud and his sister after their grandfather passed."

"Ah, yes. Alphinaud had mentioned him to me, and with great fondness."

"He would, yes." I smiled to think of Alphinaud, so much younger then. "Well, Urianger and I had never had the chance to be so close before, and in our time there we … fell in love."

I blushed all the way to my ears, even more so when Edmont lit up.

"Oh, my girl! That is the happiest news you could give me."

I couldn't manage words; I just nodded, smiling, his joy stoking my own.

"And this you told to Haurchefant…? Oh, you were worried, weren't you?" He sobered.

"I … yes. I know it's been a long time, I know he'd want us all to be happy, but I couldn't make myself believe it. I wasn't sure I even deserved happiness. I just … I've been used so often as a weapon, a tool, forced into battles without choice. I have killed a great many people. Haurchefant used to tell me I was Freyja first, always, but with him gone it was hard to remember. I lost sight of who I was. I hated what I'd become. When we finally made it back from the First, I realized that Urianger could see me, but I could not see myself. So I did the only thing I could."

"What was that?"

"I came home."

Edmont took my hand again.

"You will always have a home here. And I'm … so glad you found what you came for."

"It was here all along. I think you kept it safe for me."

At that he gathered me in a hug. I'd never been hugged by a parent before, not that I could recall. I decided I liked it.

"Do you intend to return to Mor Dhona?"

"Yes, once this is done," I waved a hand at my sewing. "I'd like to take a bit of Ishgard with me."

"So you should. We will be with you, and you will always be with us."


	17. Coming Home

I wore my new creation the day I left Ishgard. I'd made it, after all, to be a bridge between homes, far flung and disparate though they were.

Revenant's Toll was just as I'd left it, right down to the chips in the walls from the rampaging beast stampede so many weeks ago. It was comforting, even in its imperfections.

There were few people in the Rising Stones. Midday training exercise, I gathered. I poked about and greeted those few who remained. Finally I came to the door of the antechamber, where the Scions' bodies used to sleep.

Carefully, quietly, I opened the door and slipped inside.

There, sitting in an armchair with a book drooping from his hands, was Urianger.

He faced away from the door. I crept over silently, and he never so much as stirred. As I drew near I saw why -- he was asleep.

It was rare to see him so at peace; he never seemed to rest as much as the rest of us. Afternoon sunlight gently lit his golden hair, and my heart swelled to look at him, so much beauty and goodness and magic in a single man.

I leaned in to whisper in his ear:

"I come unto you,  
As the road-weary traveler  
With your blessing and your promise;  
My journey has been safe  
And it has led me home."

He stirred, golden eyes searching and meeting mine.

"Dearest…?"

"Yes, isne uin. I'm home."

He raised a cautious hand and gently stroked my cheek, as though afraid I'd disappear. I leaned into his touch.

"Freyja," he breathed, my name like a prayer on his lips. "Welcome home."

I entwined his fingers with mine and placed a kiss on his palm.

"I'm sorry it took so long. Thank you for seeing me when I couldn't see myself."

"There is a light in thine eyes that had been missing. Are thy burdens easier to bear?"

"I set them down by the grave," I replied. "All those that did not need to be carried any longer. I think he was pleased for it. I felt … free. I still do."

He stroked my hair, my cheeks, eyes still wondering.

"Wilt thou continue thy wanderings?"

"Perhaps, but not for long. Unless you came with me. I don't want to be apart from you anymore."

"Nor I from thee." He stood and gathered me in his arms, eyes dancing. "Thoughts of thy dark beauty did sustain me for many days and nights, but they pale beside you, isne sigun. Though longer still wouldst I have waited, and gladly, for the peace thou now holdest in thy heart."

"Bold words for one who used to stammer in the face of such emotion."

"Full many years have I had to think on them." His eyes danced.

"So if I called on you to improvise…?"

"Ah … I don't…" His blush spread right to the tips of his ears. I tried and failed to keep from laughing, until he smothered my giggles with a kiss. I felt him smile against my lips. "There is thy heart," he said quietly. "I missed it … and thee."

"Here I am," I nuzzled his cheek, warmth blooming in my chest.


	18. The Flower of Mephala (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS ONE ALSO CONTAINS SMUT. If you wish to avoid this, it begins at “Set down thy burdens then, my love” and ends at “Did that seem ... unusual to you?”

I lay awake in the dark. The impenetrable gloom was both comforting and terrifying. No Lightwardens here, that was clear, but other nightmares prowled in the dark...

"Urianger," I whispered -- a call, a plea, I wasn't sure what, or why, but--

I heard the rustle of blankets and felt a warm, gentle hand stroke my hair.

"Dearest one," Urianger murmured, voice low and heavy with sleep. I reached for his hand, and as I took it, he inhaled sharply. "Thy touch is ice."

"S-sorry..."

He took my hand in his, instead.

"Thou shiver'st in the night ... wherefore dost thou keep thy vigil?"

For a long moment I couldn't bring myself to answer. What could I say?

"Sometimes it's safer than dreams."

He sighed, long and slow, and some traitorous part of me wondered if this would be the moment I disappointed him, when it all became too much--

Instead he drew me close, allowed me to settle with an ear to his chest -- as he knew I found it a comfort -- and tucked the blankets in around me.

I couldn't hide that I was trembling. After a moment I recalled that I didn't have to. Urianger simply stroked my hair, my ears, caressed my shoulders, lingering in those places he knew were best.

"Shall I speak of something for thee?"

I smiled -- we'd discovered early on how well it soothed me.

"I have a question, if you don't mind."

"Thou needst only ask it."

"When did you realize how you felt about me?"

I heard the low rumble and hum as he thought. Even then, his caresses never ceased.

"In the days when I was masked and shadowed, walking among the Ascians and the Warriors of Darkness, I knew that mine actions would invite suspicion and distrust. I expected it. But all throughout, thy faith never wavered. Thou saw in me what I could no longer see within myself. I swore that day that I would stand by thee until the bitter end."

"Why did you not say?"

"I ... cherished what we had. Even from the earliest days, thou wouldst reach out to me, speak with me on more than simply our work, learning and teaching in equal measure. Thy presence never tired me. I trust all among the Scions with my life, but I have not ... a great many friends, or those in whom I may confide. I could not bear to lose thee." I sighed, and felt as much as heard his wry laugh. "If thou dost sigh for my foolishness, know that thou art not alone in doing so."

"Never. And I'm just as much a fool." For a moment I listened to his heart beat, the slow, steady rhythm calming the worst of my fears. "I am glad we talked that day in the forest. I might still be stumbling about, blind to the truth of my own heart, had you not led me there."

"I have faith that thou wouldst have arrived at thy truth in time regardless."

I thought I heard humour in his voice, and looked up. Sure enough, his lips curved in a small, mischievous smile. I wrinkled my nose at him, even as I smiled back. After a moment I settled back onto his chest.

"Is it grief, then, that follows you this night?"

Fragments of dreams that haunted me returned: my single night with Haurchefant, his body cold in death by the following sunset; a wedding that had never been, sights I'd never seen; pale, slender hands pulling me down a path, bright hair shining in starlight; a pyre for a knight and for a city, my heart breaking and breaking as the shards splintered.

"Yes," I whispered. "Mine for Haurchefant. Azem's for Hades. Emet-Selch's for Amaurot. It ... echoes. Always in death."

"Thou sought a tale of life to counter it?"

"I ... yes."

Urianger wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly. I sighed, putting all my thoughts into his touch, his embrace. His hold eventually loosened, and I drew up beside him, my eyes level with his.

"I wish I were free of it," I whispered.

"Alas, the past doth hold us all within its grip. There is but one thing stronger."

"Which is...?"

"The present." Urianger kissed me slowly, first on my forehead, then my cheek, and hovered just shy of my lips. "Here we may be only with each other. The past may wait for us ere we return ... if such is thy wish."

"Just you and me..." I murmured against his lips. "I like that."

"Set down thy burdens then, my love." His voice grew darker, sending a thrill down my spine. "Come unto me."

It was both a plea and a command, and my heart sang for both. All the worlds fell away; all that remained was his kiss. I wondered again at the softness of his lips, sensuality no one would expect from a quiet scholar. My sigh of pleasure became a soft moan as he captured my lower lip, teasing it with endless, measured patience.

"Slowly," he whispered, linking his fingers with mine, my arm pinned by his, skin against skin. His lips moved to my chin, my jaw, a trail of fire to the soft skin of my throat. I twined my leg around his, matching his sensuous, agonizing pace, caressing him, the curve of my thigh pressed against his, and I felt him gasp, felt his iron control waver for just a moment.

"Very good, isne sigun," he rumbled, and I shivered with pleasure. His lips were on my throat, his kiss first soft, then passionate. I gasped as he ran his tongue across the sensitive skin, and again as he brought his teeth to bear, softly, but enough for my back to arch. I pressed against him, thigh against thigh, my breasts just brushing against his chest.

"Breathe." A command. I did, pleasure still rolling through me. For a moment he waited. Then, satisfied, he traced his fingertips over my palm, down my forearm, down to the swell of my breast. He caressed the curve of it, closer and closer to the peak. I felt my nipple harden beneath his fingers and stifled a moan. It was best to wait, drink in the sensation as his fingertips ghosted over my skin, senses growing sharper, pleasure heightening, to the point that when he finally caressed my nipple, stroked it, pinched it, it was almost enough to send me over the edge on its own.

"Just so," he whispered. "As the candle to the flame." His other hand now traced its way down my arm and along the swell of my other breast. Unconsciously I rose to meet it. "Breathe. Feel the heat of the fire." Both hands gently caressed my nipples. With each stroke his touch grew firmer, so agonizingly slowly. "Melt into it." He pinched both at once, the pads of his thumbs stroking back and forth, and for a moment I lost myself to it completely, right at the very edge. After a moment of eternity my breath returned.

With deliberate gentleness, Urianger kissed my lips, his hands moving to my waist. He soothed the scalding heat, just enough. I sighed, and felt him smile.

"Wouldst thou come farther down this road with me?"

I nodded, as much as I could manage.

"Together," I sighed.

"Thy wish is my command," he murmured in my ear, good humour laced with desire. His hands traced over my hips to my thighs. I obeyed the command of his touch, spreading my legs as he settled his hips between them, every remaining shred of willpower I had left keeping me from rising up to claim him.

"Good," he whispered darkly. His fingertips traced up my inner thighs. "Very good." One hand traveled back over my hip, up and up, and claimed my hands once more. The other slowly, sensuously drew a single fingertip from my thigh to my waiting lips.

"'For thine is the nectar of paradise; Let no wine or water pass my lips if I instead may taste of thee.'"

Even through the haze of pleasure I recognized the quote.

"'The Flower of Mephala'," I breathed.

"So it is. 'Each velvet petal heavy with dew, trembling for the touch of the sun.'" His fingertip slipped between my lips. A sigh escaped me, unbidden, and a moan as he drew slowly up. "'For just a touch I give my breath...'"

His fingertip drew over my pearl, and stop my breath it did, as pleasure lanced through me. Slowly he traced around it, then stroked it again, making me gasp.

"Isne uin," I breathed, wrapping my somewhat freer hand around his. "Please..."

Urianger caressed my pearl again, making me shudder.

"Please what, my love?"

"I..." He stroked me again, stealing my breath and leaving my mind in pieces. "Please," I gasped, searching for the words closest to my heart. "Come unto me."

Urianger gave a gentle laugh and kissed me, soft and warm. I let my hips rise to meet him, need overtaking all else, and felt the length of him, hard as steel, press against my thigh. With the head he followed where his fingers had been before, just barely between my lips, one long stroke up to my pearl. I gasped, a broken moan of pleasure. On the second stroke he slipped between my lips, only to draw away. The third, he thrust deeper, then deeper still, an ilm at a time.

"Please," I begged, the word hissed between my teeth.

And all at once he thrust into me to the hilt.

All thought, all notions of teasing or patience were tossed aside. With both hands he lifted my hips, drew me closer. I wrapped my legs around him as he moved to my ass, squeezing my cheeks with every thrust. I could sense him losing himself in the sensation -- but only for a moment. He drew up to lean over me. I pressed close, guiding him with my hips, my thighs. With each stroke I lost myself more in his golden eyes.

I felt the pleasure unfurling deep inside me. His eyes held me. Then all at once the sensation doubled. It took a long moment before I realized Urianger stroked me with his fingertips as well as his shaft, matching each stroke of my pearl with every thrust.

I cried out, all caution abandoned, and he answered with a moan, as lost in it as I. All that mattered, all that existed, was this union. This moment. This rising sun.

For a split second of eternity I hovered on the edge, suspended in nothing. Then the wave broke through me, and I held nothing back. I felt Urianger lose control, his thrusts rough and wild and desperate, and the pleasure rose again. I locked eyes with him.

For a moment I felt like I was falling. Neither of us began or ended; we were one entity. I felt the pleasure of soft, wet heat embracing me and the pleasure of velvet steel inside me at once, knew the taste of myself on his lips. The same thoughts Echoed between us: wordless, heartfelt wonder, joy, gratitude, safety.

In a heartbeat it was over. I returned to my own mind, to my body, hot and trembling and deliciously sated. Urianger lay on top of me, utterly spent. I shifted a little to cradle his head on my breasts, stroking his golden hair.

Our breath slowed. The chill of the night found its way back to us. I drew a blanket up, trying to be careful, but the movement roused him.

"Sorry," I whispered. Urianger just shook his head sleepily and lay back on my breasts.

"Fear not, for I am quite content."

I laughed softly, and he smiled.

Then, slowly, thoughts came to me.

"Did ... you feel that? At the end?"

I felt as much as heard him hum in consideration.

"A sensation like unto a union of our selves?"

"Yes, that. Did that seem ... unusual to you?"

He shifted to look up at me.

"I am afraid I must admit to only a small amount of personal experience in that particular area. But t'was of an intensity I am ... unfamiliar with, if that is of some use."

I idly caressed his hair as I pondered.

"To me, it felt like the Echo. Only it wasn't a memory; it was the same moment, from both perspectives at once."

Urianger looked up so quickly I bapped his nose with my hand.

"Truly?"

"S-sorry ... and yes. Was it similar for you?"

"Not to such an extent ... but it presents an intriguing line of inquiry." He smiled innocently, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. "Perhaps we might conduct further investigation on the subject."

"I suppose we must," I sighed dramatically. "To further the cause of knowledge." I caught his eye and grinned.

Few people have heard Urianger truly laugh. I find it one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.

Eventually we settled, with me curled up in his arms, head resting on his shoulder, in a nest of pillows and blankets.

"Wilt thou take some sleep, dear one?"

I yawned.

"I think so. I hope so."

Urianger held me close and kissed my forehead tenderly.

"All is well, regardless. Thou art safe. I am here."

I sighed, content.

"I know."


End file.
